Snape Syndrome
by Madhubala
Summary: What would Professor Snape do if a student came to Hogwarts that reminded him much of the reign of the Marauders? Watch out for the sorting hat fainting. Please Read and review.
1. The Acceptance

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any of J.K. Rowling's characters. I own the rights to my original character Kareena and any other original characters that pop up in this fic.

**Authors Note:** Updated to clear up some confusion.

**Special Thanks to Ice:** Thank you for pointing out that I wrote wizard instead of witch! Originally I was going to write Kareena as a boy named Kieran. It didn't work because I thought a girl's point of view was stronger for this story. Again, thanks for pointing that out that I put wizard instead of witch. And the reason that Kareena does live in a muggle town will be cleared up in Chapter Three, so stay tuned:-)

**Chapter 1-The Acceptance (Kareena)**

**Journal Entry #1**

Life is a drag.

I do not know what else to say. My life is not what I want it to be. But, I fear that I am being forced into exaltation. I do not want to be praised and admired. I just want to lead a traditional life. _Traditional?_ The Addams Household scoffs at that word! We are anything but traditional.

We walk around town in billowing cloaks. My father's cloak is in hunter green. Do not ask me why, but, my mother's cloak is in _paisley._ I believe that she is a bit nostalgic for her days when she used to be a flower child. It was sometime in the seventies when she was a teenager. I wear a red cloak.

I am ashamed to say, however, that the muggles are not used to us. They think of my family as the "freaks." Sometimes, they even refer to us as _The Addams Family._

Today, I was sitting in my backyard just writing some poetry and playing my guitar. When my muggle next door neighbor and her two partners in foolishness, Esther and Miranda, started to hum the theme song to The Addams Family. I felt as though I were being condemned for being what they thought of as a _freak._ I just ignored them as I went on writing my poetry.

Today, Mary, Esther, and Miranda were wearing color coordinating outfits and large platform sandals. I am beginning to feel that they are the town's own _Spice Girls._

Mary entered my backyard as though she owned the lot. "My father tells me that you aren't even _our_ kind."

I ignored her as I continued my writing.

"Doesn't she _even_ speak?" Miranda inquired in her shrill voice.

"I do." I thought, "But only to those of and above my intelligence."

"Hey!" Esther cried out loud in anticipation. "Look at her guitar. Isn't it gear?"

_Gear?_ What era did they belong in? This was London but this was not the swinging sixties. I tried to control my temper as I wrote my verses down. "Oh," Miranda exclaimed. "How fab!"

_Fab?_

Mary picked up my guitar from my lap and began to strum. She made a face as she replied, "A bit off key, isn't it?"

I rolled my eyes as I tried to focus on my music. This was my time to be free. They had never come into my backyard before. What made them think that they could come into my backyard now? What did they have up their sleeves?

Miranda smirked and nodded. "_Very _off key."

Mary returned the smirk as she began to tune my guitar. My guitar was not to be fiddled around with as if it were a toy. It was not a cheap trinket. I had saved up for that guitar for weeks. I would never let anyone touch it. Now, it was out of tune.

"There." Mary strummed it and laughed. "Now it sounds better."

I stood up from my chair on the back porch as I snatched my guitar from Mary's hands. I dryly replied, "If you had any musical talent, you would know that one should not tune a guitar by ear unless they know the chords." I glared at the three of them and sharply added in, "But I suppose you all knew that. Am I correct?"

"No wonder you don't have any friends," Mary sneered.

"I do not think I would want to be friends with people that hurt innocents just because they want to make their colossal egos feel greater."

That is what I have to say. That is what happened this morning before breakfast and before those three girls left for their normal public school.

Thank you for listening to me whine my dear diary but I must sign off now. _Signing off: Kareena Addams_

I look over at mum and dad as they suprisingly smile back at me. We all sit at the table as we eat our breakfast. Mum knows that I am fond of plain scones and honey. She has made them today. I do not want to leave her. Who wants to leave their mother? For, a mother is the only comfort and joy in this world.

I sigh as I spread the golden honey across my piping hot scone. How can I eat when I fear that I shall be homesick? How can I eat when I know that I shall be away from my mother? I know that I can get by but I shall miss mum and dad.

The main reason that I have been kicked out of all those wizardry schools was not because of poor grades. It was nothing academic. The reason was because I hate being away from home for long periods of time. I had to go to drastic measures because I missed mum and dad.

"Dear," my mother replies soothingly. "What is wrong?"

"Another wizardry school," I mumble softly as I pick up my cup of tea and absent-mindedly blow away the steam. "I won't fit in. I just know how-

"Oh no," my father's thick Irish brogue unintentionally interrupts. "That is where you are wrong." My father whips out the brochure that he had received in the mail last week. "See all these happy smiling faces at Hogwarts."

I notice a girl with bushy brown hair that is a little too unruly. She is conversing with two boys, one with red hair and a pale complexion and another one with very messy dark hair and mysterious eyes shrouded by round-rimmed glasses. The picture is of course moving, as most enchanted photos often do. All of a sudden, the three children freeze in fear as a man with a slightly hooked nose and greasy black hair approaches them. He looks straight at the dark haired boy and mouths something which I believe to be some sort of command. The boy glares at him and walks away as his friends trail behind him.

I groan as I sip my tea. "They're only smiling because they get paid to do that."

"It wouldn't hurt you to smile," my father jokes.

I laugh because my parents know just how to cheer me up. But, I fear that I shall be miserable there. For, I have been miserable at every single one of those wizardry schools.

It has been a miserable year for us. I have been miserable and I fear that I have made it miserable for them. But, mum and dad, they are always happy and I want to be with them. Their warm smiles just about melt the block of ice that I feel has enveloped my heart.

I just wish that I were a muggle like my next door neighbor, Mary. She gets to go to that nice public school that is conveniently across the street from my home. We have a nice view of that school from our kitchen window. I sometimes find it very strange how muggles conduct themselves.

I shrug as I turn my back towards the window. I look back at the Hogwarts brochure. This time, the picture has changed. It shows a deep red steam engine with excited children in sweeping cloaks waiting to get on. The steam engine sign reads: HOGWARTS EXPRESS.

I decide to flip through the brochure and suddenly I find that I am face to face with a talking hologram of Albus Dumbledore, the headmaster.

"Ah, hello Ms. Kareena Addams." He gently replies, "Allow me to introduce myself. I am Professor Albus Dumbledore, the headmaster at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I hate to admit that I cannot stay long but I would like to introduce my faculty to you."

"Can they stay long?" I ask as my eyes flicker in anticipation.

"What was that," Professor Dumbledore queries. "Oh, can they stay long? No, I fear that they cannot, for, we all have our work to do."

"What a kind man that Professor Dumbledore is," my mother smiles.

I nod in agreement with my mother's statement as I meet the hologram of Professor Minerva McGonagall. "The head of the Gryffindor house and deputy headmistress."

"Professor Froderick Finnicky." A man with a gaunt face, long, thin nose and abnormally large brown eyes lisps. "Defense Against the Dark Arts." I raise an eyebrow up at Professor Finnicky's rather fast yet squeamish manner.

The hologram of Professor Finnicky vanishes and with it comes the man with the hooked nose and the greasy black hair. "Professor Snape," he dryly replies. "The head of the Slytherin house and Potions master."

I freeze and gaze into the man's vacant black eyes. There was nothing in him. I felt as though he was the mystery at Hogwarts. The type that kept to himself. I knew that type because I tended to keep to myself at certain times. The man, however, seemed to possess a greater evil in him than just merely being rebellious. "Well, what are you staring in a stupor for?" The hologram sneers back at me. I flinch and quickly close the brochure on Professor Snape's face. I forget about the rest of the faculty that is waiting to be introduced to their newest student.

This has been my second time getting kicked out of a magick and wizardry school. I respect them, the teachers, but I hate being told what to do. I like being taught.

The two attempts at getting kicked out proved beneficial. They worked.

Attempt Number 1: This involved the girl's dormitory, a cat, and a candle. Many burnt and blackened sheets. The fire burnt a massive hole into the floorboards. The cat survived. My innocent quote, "I just wanted to see if cats really do have nine lives." I got expelled from that school.

Attempt Number 2: Boiling a live toad in the middle of the hallway. That created a nasty stench for a solid week. The caretaker was a bit put off and I did not blame him. But, I was glad to be out of that school. The faculty was not at all that caring. They were working merely for the benefit of themselves.

I sigh and stand in front of the bathroom mirror after I have finished eating my breakfast. "Why don't mum and dad realize that I don't want to be a witch," I ask my reflection.

I begin to study my reflection as I wonder, do mirrors truly lie? The bathroom mirror, I felt, was a pathological liar. For, I looked different today. I felt beautiful. My long brown waves were in place and my auburn eyes had a certain sparkle in them. My lips were naturally ruby red. I liked my lips, for, they were my favorite color. But, for once, my olive skin was spotless.

"No zits!" I winked at my reflection.

My mind reels back to last week...

I was sitting outside on my porch when all of a sudden, an owl appeared out of nowhere.

"Aren't you supposed to be nocturnal," I joked as the owl playfully nipped my finger. I shook my head, "Weird."

The owl dropped a letter in my hand. "Hogwarts," I muttered as I watch the owl fly away. Oh, I had heard about this place. It was famous yet infamous.

Infamous because of The-Name-That-The-Addams-Household-Dare-Not-Say went there. Famous because of their vast knowledge and intelligent and caring staff with the exception of the caretaker.

"Mum?" I walked into our country cottage. "Mum?"

"Yes, what is it?"

"An owl."

Mum raised an eyebrow up and smiled, "You don't say?"

"It's from Hogwarts."

"You know what that means," my mother nudged my father.

"Well," my father looked up from the newspaper that he was reading as he earnestly looked at me. "Go on. Open it."

"She got a letter from an owl." The smiling gossip columnist in my father's newspaper whispered.

Her name was Bumpadora Mumplesdurn and she was the most lethal columnist in the world of wizardry. She was worse than Rita Skeeter, believe it or not. Every newspaper or tabloid that she had an article in would always have a spellbound photograph in it. Enchanted photos were moving pictures taken in the past but a spellbound photo was a picture that let the subject hear every conversation. In Bumpadora's case, she used the picture in her column as a spy-cam.

"Oh! Dare I say it?" Bumpadora's smile twinkled in the sunlight.

"Oh shut up! Or I'll tear your picture to pieces." My father ordered the newspaper to quiet down as he wagged a scolding finger at the now frowning picture of the gossip columnist.

Reluctantly, I opened the letter. Slowly at first because I was actually a bit afraid and because I did not want to tear the fine stationary on which it was written on. But, suddenly, I felt a surge of anticipation, none like I had ever felt before. I tore the letter open so quickly that it got torn in half.

"Oh dear," my mother sighed.

"I'm sorry," I mumbled in my embarrassment.

"No," my mother happily said, "We can put it back together. Just lay the two pieces on the table."

I laid the two pieces on the table and by some miracle, the paper joined together by itself. "I knew it," my father happily replied. "Unrippable paper."

"There's only one place to get that," my mother nodded.

"Diagon Alley,"my father proudly replied.

Diagon Alley. The only place to get the best in witchcraft and wizardy. Dried toadstool, you got it by the handful. Eye of newt, by the jarful. You have stomach pains, fish oil by the bottle.

I picked up the letter back from the table and read on about how despite my drawbacks, Hogwarts would accept me at the grade that I was at now. "I've been accepted," I shrugged and threw the letter back on the kitchen table. My parents grinned from ear to ear. For, Hogwart's was the wizardry school.

I look at my reflection again. Then I hear my mother reply, "Darling, hurry. You don't want to be late."

I remember my parents beaming with pride through the entire car ride. I remember them beaming as I ran through the barrier between Platform Nine and Platform Ten. "Platform 9 and three quarters," I whisper to myself.

I beam as soon as I see the deep red steam engine. It is an actual steam engine. HOGWARTS EXPRESS! I shake my head and roll my eyes as I think, "Now, I am beaming in pride."

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	2. The Tumultous Train Ride

**Disclaimer: **I do not own J.K. Rowling's characters. I do, however, own the rights to my original characters.

**Special Thanks: **Icecubesummer, gothiccrannberry, Loveme Thanks for the reviews!

**Chapter 2-The Tumultous Train Ride (Kareena)**

**Journal Entry #2**

I have met whom I believe to be Lucifer. Well, he _calls_ himself Draco Malfoy.

When I met him, I knew that he was not the right sort. He had a certain charismatic air that I did not wish for. Nor did I wish for his arrogance either. I saw him on Diagon Alley as I was buying my supplies.

I called out to my father, "What do you think? I held up a cauldron that was gilded with silverwork. "What do you think?"

"Maybe," my father looked at the price tag. "No."

I nodded and quietly replied to myself, "The budget." I reached for the cheapest cauldron that I could find. But, the owner shook his head and replied, "That cauldron is liable to leak."

"What about this one?" I pointed at a second-hand one that had caught my eye.

"Ahh." The owner smiled, "I see you have quite the eye. This is the oldest cauldron that we own. It was owned by a wizard named Galgref. He was also a vampire. It exploded in his face and he was never heard of ever again." He shrugged, "Of course, he was making a very lethal potion to gain his life back. If you use it, no harm will come to you."

"This is worse than finding my wand." I smiled and shook my head, "Poor Mr. Ollivander, he has to clean up very often doesn't he."

I noticed a young boy standing in the room looking at the items; touching them as though they were his very own. He had every right to be there. But, I suddenly wished that he were not in the store. He had silver-blonde hair and skin so spotless that it had a certain glow. He seemed too perfect for words.

That is too perfect for me.

I looked away from the boy and decided against buying Galgref's cauldron. I held up the second cheapest cauldron and waited for the owner's advice. But, he was too busy watching the boy with a look of anger mixed with anxiety. I turned around and found that the young boy was staring right back at me. Quickly, I turned to face the owner and cleared my throat. "Sir?" I hastily replied, "This cauldron?"

He turned to me and looked at the cauldron. "That cauldron is one of the best in creation."

"Surely you must be joking." I scoffed and looked at the price-tag, "It's only the second cheapest."

"Oh, dear." The owner looked back at the cauldron in confusion, "I am sorry. It is good for potions, however-"

"That will do." I smiled at the owner. "It is fine for now. I only need it for potions class."

I eyed Galgref's cauldron again and could not leave it behind. It was so intricately laden with silver and onyx. I looked back at it and sighed, "This cauldron is just too beautiful to let go."

"Why not buy both?" The owner smiled brightly as he thought of the incredible sale that he might make.

I looked up at my father and smiled, "Please?"

He nodded and replied, "Okay."

I cannot get that boy out of my mind. I do not mean that in a good way. I feel that there is something wrong with him. Why would the owner have become so fearful of him? I also see that he and I will be going to the same school. He seems a bit older than I. I will soon turn sixteen. I cannot wait until my birthday. Does Hogwarts celebrate birthdays?

**Signing off: Kareena Addams**

All is silent in my compartment. I quite prefer it that way. Finally, I can get a moments peace. I love this quiet solitude, for, it allows me to think about my mum and

dad and their warmth and kindness to me. Yet, why must they ship me off as if I were a bloody _parcel_? I only want to be at home with them.

I have left the sliding door open for air and so I can observe the people that pass by. It has been this silent for hours. Not a single soul has passed by and I am forced to stare out the window at all the dense foliage. The country side is so green that it reminds one of a giant salad without the dressing. It is so silent that I can hear my stomach rumbling.

"I should not have refused the food off of the trolley," I think to myself. "But, all they had were sweets."

I open up my sketch book and take out my enchanted quill. I watch the enchanted quill draw a picture of a vampire that is wearing a long black cape and a black suit. "Green eyes," I reply to my quill. In a flash, the quill changes color as it fills in the iris's of my subject. The enchanted quill is a great tool for wizards that are too busy to draw but have the idea of what they would like to illustrate in their minds. The enchanted quill reads ones mind and simply begins to draw. But, here is the best thing, you can talk to the creation. You get to converse with your drawing and sometimes, they can even jump off of the page to meet you.

I look down at my drawing and find that he is no longer on my page. I hear a shrill scream in the compartment next to mine. I cringe as I whisper, "You were supposed to talk _only_ to me."

Soon enough, I find that there is a crowd of girls running away from the my creation. My thoughts call out to him as I reply, "I beckon you to come forth."

He stops chasing the girls and walks into my compartment. "I set you loose." I raise my chin up and stand up to display authority. "Were you searching for your creator?"

"No." The vampire hisses, "I was searching for a meal. You, however, do look rather tasty."

I roll my eyes and clutch the wand inside my cloak. I quickly remember the way to estinguish an enchanted drawing that has gone wrong. I grab the piece of sketch paper on which I had drawn him and rip it in half. The vampire vanishes into nothingness and I sigh as I slump into my seat.

Startled by a rustling noise, I gasp and peer out of the corner of my eye at the open compartment door. There is a boy watching me and he is leaning against the sliding door with a sly smirk upon his lips. It was the boy from the shop.

His arms are crossed defensively and his chin is raised in a cocksure manner. I look away from him and decide to focus my attention on the country side again. But, I fear that he will not go until he gets the attention that he thinks he deserves. Was he one of _those _children? Was he an only child that had been pampered since the day that he was born?

"What," I reply as I look out the window, "are you staring at?" I turn my gaze away from the green pastures and glare at the boy.

He smirks and runs a hand through his yellow-white hair as though it were _actually_ out of place. He walks into my compartment as if he owns the bloody train. "Not much," he sardonically replies.

"Well, if I'm _not much_ then stop looking," I snap as I turn away from his steely gaze.

The boy sits down across from me. His countenance has taken on a more serious tone. His face softens as he tries his best to put on a polite act. I feel that he is not the right sort. There is something wrong with his mind. He reminds me of this old black and white horror movies. What was that horror movie called? The Bad Seed, that was the movie.

"I'm Draco Malfoy."

I raise an eyebrow up and just stare right back at him. I knew what his next question was going to be. It was inevitable, for, this was a generic conversation.

"And you're new here?" He continues as though he hardly notices the fact that his presence disgusts me. "Probably-"

"None of your business." I dryly reply as I look out the window at the Salad World.  
"My father is Lucius Malfoy," Draco warns me as though I should be afraid.

"Really," I continue to stare out the window and sarcastically retort, "congratulations."

"Do you know of him," Draco asks trying his best to be polite.

"No."

There is silence for awhile as I continue to look out the window. I turn away from the window and find that his pleasant countenance has been stripped away. He is now seething in hostility. He purses his lips in his anger and then sneers, "You will pay for-"

"Pay for _what_?" I turn to him and scoff, "We have _not _made a bet."

I know that this boy is not the type that I would want on my side. But, I also do not want him as my enemy. I know this sort. I have observed his kind before. From experience, I know that one can never benefit from becoming his friend. He is the type

that is always wanting his way. He is the type of boy that I would most likely protect myself from.

I realize though that I cannot always avoid his kind as well as enemies.

I stand up from my seat and politely nod towards the open door. "If you do not _mind_."

Draco glares at up at me and replies through clenched teeth, "It would be my pleasure."

He stands up and stalks out of my compartment. He does not look back and so, I do not fear watching him leave. But, I do fear my growing intrigue towards him. "No." I think to myself, "Be sensible. He is not the right sort." He walks further and further away from me as his black cloak billows around him and all I can do is take a deep

breath in. He pushes a girl with bushy brown hair aside. She rolls her eyes and runs to catch up with her two friends, a boy with round-rimmed glasses and a boy with hair so red that it reminds one of fire.

My eyes widen as I completely forget about Draco Malfoy. The brochure was telling me the truth. "The brochure children," I whisper to myself.

I watch Draco stalk off and think, "I cannot believe that I have to go to school with that moron."

My thoughts are disrupted as a tiny bell rings in my compartment. I never noticed that there was a bell in here before. I squint as I notice a little piece of paper hanging off of the bell. Was this a note of some kind? I tore the paper off from the bell and read it. It read: Join me for dinner.

Join who for dinner?

The writing faded and with it came another response: Everyone will be there. For, it is going to be dinner time soon.

Who had sent me this note? Who was sending me these messages?

I walk out out my compartment to see if there is anyone that has noticed this strange occurance. But, all I see is Draco Malfoy and his two goons that he calls his friends, staring right back at me. His two friends laugh as they tap a slip of notebook paper with his wand. For, everytime he taps the slip of notebook paper the message upon my unrippable slip of paper changes. I send Draco a glare and slam the compartment door shut.

I lean against the shut compartment door. I look down at the paper in my hands. It replies: Shyness will never get you anywhere. Especially in Slytherin.

I rip the paper to pieces and throw it on the ground. But, I watch in horror and amazement as all the pieces join together again. The letter responds: Isn't unrippable paper the greatest?

"I can't believe I have to go to school with him."

I open the window and toss the paper away. Soon, I find that the bell has vanished. Slowly, I open the compartment door and no longer do I see Draco and his friends. The trolley stops by my compartment and though I am enticed by the sweets, I refuse. Soon, all the students rush towards my compartment for the trolley and I get a good look at all of them. The boy with red hair looks over at me and nudges another boy, for, I am the _new_ student. The boy with the round-rimmed glasses looks up in curiosity from his armful of sweets and then looks back down. He mutters something to the boy with red hair and soon, the trolley moves on its way.

I close the compartment door. For, my next stop is Hogwarts.

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